


Inspection

by abbofan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Anal Probing, Dominance, Dystopia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gags, Knotting Dildos, M/M, Medical Examination, Medical Kink, Original Fiction, Praise Kink, Restraints, Science Fiction, Submission, but this is still a dystopia, he has an orgasm, state run omega program, teenage omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:55:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26179846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbofan/pseuds/abbofan
Summary: In a dystopian world where omegas are prized, any teenager who displays omega characteristics must be thoroughly examined to determine whether he should be taken into government custody.Justin is a teenager whose parents just caught him trying to insert a flashlight into his ass. Bryan and Tim are two omega examiners sent to evaluate the case.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 229





	Inspection

The worst and best part of Bryan's job was that it required a lot of focus. Even on days like this, when he was tired from a night of too little sleep, a little hyper from too much coffee in the morning, still he had to stay focused and not only get the job done but do it carefully and accurately. Lives quite literally hung in the balance. 

The kid's name was Justin. He was a sophomore in high school. Average build, average medical history for his age, no chronic conditions, and no flags in any tests until now to indicate he was an omega. Not that that was indicative of anything, but Bryan liked to be thorough. He scrolled through the file while taking occasional bites of the sandwich that would serve as his lunch for the day, while sitting in the passenger seat.

"Highlights?" asked Tim, his driver and junior tech. Only a few years younger than Bryan, but experience counted for a lot in this job. 

Bryan gave him a brief summary. Ideally, Tim would read the full file as well, but they didn't have time for that, and as long as Bryan will fully in the loop it wouldn't really matter. 

They arrived at the house at around two in the afternoon. The neighborhood was suburban, quiet, with spacious houses spread out on the street. 

The kid, Justin, had stayed home from school. And a quick chat with his parents revealed he'd been mostly holed up in his bedroom, not even the sound of videogames reaching his parents and younger sisters. 

Bryan couldn't blame him. It was a lot for a kid, to be hit with something like this, even as a possibility. Especially since Bryan knew, kids who presented this dramatically tended to be the real thing. 

The dad showed them up to Justin's bedroom. The mom stayed downstairs, barely holding back tears. 

In the file, it said they'd found the kid a day earlier on the floor of his bedroom, pants around his ankles, trying to shove a flashlight into his ass. From the sounds of it they'd thought he'd injured himself.

Which, in a way, he had. 

As soon as Bryan entered the room, the smell was unmistakable. He was a beta - they'd never send anyone else to do a job like this - but the scent change from downstairs and here was noticeable. Of course, it could be other things as well, just hormonal pheromones, or maybe the extremely rare false heat some betas experienced in adolescence. In any case, that's why Bryan had equipment and protocols with him, and wasn't just relying on his nose, the way they used to thirty years ago. 

Justin was lying in bed, with his back to them, covered in a blanket even though the house was pleasantly warm. Bryan was pretty certain he had a pillow wedged between his legs, pressed up against his crotch and his hole. That was usually what young omegas went for, a combination of something familiar, stimulation to the penis, and something comforting for the new itch, something to rub their asses against. 

He let Tim do the introductions, while he took the equipment out of the briefcases they brought, and set it up on the floor, clearing away the mess of dirty clothes. 

He set up the special bench, which would let Justin rest comfortably on his stomach, give him a place to rest his hands - a place to restrain him if that became absolutely necessary - and to be bent over so his hips were elevated and everything between his legs was easily accessible. 

Tim coaxed Justin out of the bed slowly, explaining who they were, and they were here because Justin's parents had called the hotline, and this was just a routine check, nothing more. Some kids are terrified when they see us, some are careless and brave. Justin was somewhere in between. He was hesitant, clearly scared, but not panicking, not out of his mind. 

He knew this was standard procedure, they'd probably covered it at that good school he attended. He knew this had to happen, like a flu shot or a class trip, just part of standard operating procedure. If someone was suspected of being an omega - which usually happened when people were in their teens - they had to be tested. Omegas were precious and valuable, with only 30% of people born with u a uterus able to give birth, and the numbers steadily declining, omegas were declared a national resource. They had to be found as early as possible, so they could undergo the right treatments and conditioning.

"Right over here, Justin," Tim said, leading the boy - dressed in a tshirt and sweats - to the bench I'd set up. 

i could see the hesitation in his eyes, but before he could give into it I said, "Hop on over, nothing to be afraid of," with as much authority as my voice could carry. I was pretty good at sounding authoritative to these kids, at this point. Part of the job. 

It worked, and Justin eyed me with some antagonism but slowly climbed on the bench. Tim helped him, showed him where to place his hands, the handles he could grab, and where to rest his head. 

"I have to take these off, Justin," I said, touching the waistband of his sweats. "We can't do the exam otherwise."

I could hear his shark intake of breath. 

"We've done this hundreds of times, buddy," Tim said, putting a hand on Justin's shoulder. "Nothing to be embarrassed about."

I used the moment to slowly but firmly pull the pants off, working them off Justin's feet and putting them aside on the floor. Not like it would change the level of mess in the room. 

"We're gonna do a manual exam first," Tim said, taking on the role of guiding Justin, while I took a good look at his genitals. 

The soft penis was a little small, compared to the average for his age, but that could mean a lot of things. The testicles looked a little engorged, which was unusual. I put my hands on Justin's cheeks and slowly parted them, telegraphing every movement as much as I could. 

"Shh, part of the exam," I heard Tim say. 

Justin's hole was dry, but the skin was a little red and irritated. That could be because he was in the very early stages of heat, or from all the things he's tried to do to himself before we arrived. 

An inconclusive case that would definitely only be settled by lab analysis. 

I looked up and met Tim's eyes, giving him a nod, and he took the soft ball on a leather strap from the briefcase and presented it to Justin. 

"We're gonna need you to bite down on this," Tim said, putting the gag next to Justin's face. "It's how we do the exam - saliva samples. So bite down," he said, pushing the ball gently into Justin's mouth, "and that'll give us all the data we need." He finished buckling the strap around Justin's head, keeping the ball securely in his mouth. It was too big for Justin to close his jaw, which would get uncomfortable over a long period of time, but the exam didn't take very long. And this way it made swallowing more difficult and encouraged drooling, which meant the ball could collect more saliva. 

While I prepped the tools, slathering them with lubricant, since Justin was completely dry and would of course not risk injuring him, Tim distracted the kid with chitchat. 

"Do you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, Justin?" Tim asked. "Nod or shake your head."

We'd already asked the parents and they said no, but you never knew with teenagers. 

Justin nodded his head. 

"Girlfriend?" Tim asked.

Justin nodded again. 

Well, that meant he was less likely to have experience with this. 

"Have you ever touched yourself there, Justin? Before yesterday?" Tim said, keeping his tone casual. 

After a pause Justin shook his head. 

"That's okay, we'll be extra careful," Tim said. "We'll sort this out in no time."

"Gonna start the test now, son," I said, authoritative where Tim was friendly. "Relax as much as you can, everything will go smoothly."

"Deep breaths," Tim encouraged.

The first tool simulated a very long finger. It was 11 inches long, but about the thickness of a pencil, with a very minor ridge to mark every inch. It was slick everywhere but in the handle, when I slowly inserted the tip into Justin's hole. 

He groaned and shuddered. Startled but clearly reacting positively to the intrusion. His parents had described him as frantic and desperate in the original report, which sometimes happens with young omegas, but then the urgency receeds. Justin had been hanging on like a champ, but this was clearly pushing the buttons he was terrified he had. 

I pushed the rod in, further. It slid in smoothly for the first five inches, and Justin barely let out a sound. When we got to eight I could hear Justin biting down harder on the ball in his mouth.

"Shh, easy," Tim was saying, putting a hand on Justin's shoulder again. "Everything's fine."

I proceeded with more caution. Justin's body wasn't trying to keep me out, but he was clearly starting to feel the intrusion. 

I pushed in two more inches, and Justin whimpered, his hands white on the handles. It was always easier to keep the subject calm and cooperative, and I didn't want to push Justin into panic. Ten inches would be the number on the record. Well within the range of what an omega would find pleasurable, but a beta, with no prior experience with anal insertion, would be unable to tolerate calmly. 

"You're doing so good, Justin," Tim said, as I pulled out the tool and prepared the next one. 

This one was what everyone at the academy was used to calling "the mushroom". It was a soft stem, maybe two fingers thick, five inches long. At the top was a soft dome, somewhat similar to the head of an erect penis.

This one was harder to insert, always. It was why we never used it first, even though the length of the measuring tool could be alarming. Still, it was good for getting the subject used to penetration. 

I began pushing the head of the mushroom inside, and then pushed the stem, inch by inch, and Justin made a sound again, which was somewhere between aroused and confused. 

"It takes a bit for this one to go in," Tim said. "But it gives us lots of useful data, so just hold on for a bit."

Finally, when my fingers were done pushing the tool inside, I put my hands firmly on Justin's two ass cheeks. 

"Justin, I'l need you to squeeze right now," I said. "Squeeze what I just put inside, as hard as you can." 

I could hear the boy take in a breath, and could see his muscles flex to do as I said. 

"Squeeze harder," I said. "This is the most important part, Justin. Squeeze as hard as you can."

To make sure he did it, because sometimes subjects didn't take me seriously, or were afraid following my orders would confirm they were omegas, I gave Justin's cheeks a light slap, first one and then the other. 

Justin yelped. Tim held down his shoulders, to present him from bucking. 

"Squeeze!" I said, and finally I was satisfied that what I was seeing was the maximum effort he could exert against the tool inside of him. 

"Alright, that's very good, Justin," I said, giving him a calming hand on his lower back. "You can relax now."

I could hear him take a deep, shaky breath. 

"Doing so good," Tim kept saying. "Perfect, exactly what you're supposed to do."

I slowly pulled out the tool, working with Justin's confused sphincter, which had just focused so hard on keeping the mushroom inside, until finally all of it was out, and I could hear Justin give a sigh of relief. It wasn't the most pleasant exam. 

I put the mushroom back with the measuring tool. It had a mechanism inside to record the internal pressure, they'd check the readings in the lab. 

"Alright, buddy," Tim said, rubbing a hand on Justin's shoulder. "We're halfway done, and it was the tricky half. You're doing great, and we'll be done soon."

I could see that the boy was producing so much saliva, there was a string of it dripping to the floor. That would be good for the readings. 

Next was the inflatable knot tool. It was unlike the myriad sex toys that existed for this same purpose in that it too had an internal mechanism to record the readings, once it was inserted, and it also didn't have a penis portion. 

Most inflatable knots started out large and got larger. But this was barely the size of a marble on a short stick. The purpose was not overall arousal, but testing the very specific mechanism omegas possessed and that was very difficult to detect otherwise, early on in their development. 

I pushed the small knot inside and Justin barely registered it. He was used to me inserting things into him at this point, which was why the exam was structured like it was. 

I pushed the button on the end of the stick, and the knot began slowly inflating. 

In the old days, and in some vintage toys, this was done with a hand pump. But we needed precise readings, and the automatic inflation was much more gradual and accurate. 

It took about a minute for Justin to react. He shifted his hips on the bench, fidgeting, which was fine. The knotting toy was probably about at level 3 at that point. 

After another minute Justin started breathing a little heavier, squeezing his eyes shut. Probably up to level 6. 

Tim intervened, like a good junior tech, to prevent any negative feelings from affecting the exam. 

"You're doing so good, buddy," he said, petting Justin's hair. "Relax, deep breaths, just let your body react naturally. It knows what to do."

Another thirty seconds, and Justin was restless, moaning and whimpering, his hips rising into the air and falling on the bench again,

I gave Tim a meaningful look and pressed the button on the knot, halting the inflation. 

"Alright buddy," Tim said, tone even more comforting and intimate than before. "For this next part we need you to be really still, for just a minute."

I buckled Justin's ankles to the bench, one after the other, while Tim talked. 

"It's just for a minute, I promise," Tim said, as Justin, panting through the gag in his mouth, made a frustrated, indignant sound. "Trust me, I've been with you all the way, haven't I?" Tim said. "It's just for a minute, Justin, you'll barely notice and we'll be done."

I buckled Justin's wrists, one and then the other, to the handles, using the restraining straps. In extreme cases there were also straps for a subject's pelvis and neck, but I didn't think we'd need those here. We really were almost done. 

"Stay with us for just a minute, Justin," I said, settling back into my position between his spread thighs. 

I pushed the button again, to make the knot continue inflating, and Justin started whimpering, loudly, trying to move his hips as much as he could. Ten seconds later he was moaning, from deep in his throat, muffled and raw. 

"Almost over, buddy," Tim said, stroking his back continuously now. "I know it might feel a little strange, or a little uncomfortable, but you're doing so good."

It was a rare beta who could tolerate the inflatable knot beyond a level seven, and we were probably around level ten now. Still, this was why we had exams and readings, to avoid mistaken diagnosis. 

Justin's sounds grew louder and louder, his movements more and more frantic, until there were tears running down his cheeks, mixing with the saliva strings. He was still moaning, but also sobbing, his body shuddering, out of his control. I'd seen this before with omegas, it was even worse when they took their first real knot. Their bodies were torn between pleasure and panic, and it was very easy to cross the border into pain and injury. 

I pressed the button again. It had been almost a minute since we'd tied him down, probably up to a level 12. 

Justin's body stilled, but he was still panting, still crying. 

"Such a good show, buddy," Tim said, rubbing his shoulders. "You did great. And now it's over! The hard part is over."

That calmed Justin down a bit. I didn't deflate the knot inside of him, since we still had one final exam to perform. 

I took out the small, elastic ring from briefcase, the one that didn't need lubrication, and reached between Justin's legs for his penis. 

It was larger than before, though it was difficult to tell with this angle whether he was fully erect. 

I slid the ring gently on his penis, stopping just when it passed the sensitive head. It was clinging to him securely, and Justin let out another confused moan at my actions. 

"Last one, buddy!" Tim said. "Last one and we're done."

I pressed a specific spot on the ring, and it lit up and began vibrating. 

Justin howled, and shuddered again. The tears were frozen in his eyes, his whole body unsure what it was feeling. 

"Just let go, Justin," Tim said encouragingly. "Enjoy. This feels good, doesn't it?"

The knot was still inside of him, and how long it would take Justin to ejaculate like this, if at all, was part of the data we needed. The adult omegas I'd met were generally trained out of seeing their penises as the focal points of their sexual pleasure. They were trained to reach orgasm only when experiencing direct stimulation to their sensitive prostates, and sometimes without any other stimulation at all. 

It didn't take long, with Justin. In less than a minute had was panting, moaning again, bucking his hips and then coming, his large testicles drawing closer to his body and his penis jerking a few times before Justin let out one final scream of release, muffled by the gag. 

"So good, buddy!" Tim assured him cheerfully, while Justin hung his head in exhaustion, and perhaps mortified embarrassment. 

I pressed the button on the knotting tool twice, quickly, and it began deflating, forcing another groan out our subject. 

Tim began untying his wrists, while I took my time with his ankles. By the time we were done the knot had deflated back into its original size, and I pulled it out carefully. 

I gathered up all the tools and started placing them - without wiping off any fluids - into their proper places in the briefcase, which we would then hand over to the lab. Tim took care of gentling Justin off the bench, making sure his muscles weren't sore, and helping him lie down on the bed. Justin, like many others in his position, had wanted to sit, but Tim convinced him he needed rest and lying down would feel better. 

He handed Justin back his sweatpants, and when the boy was resting, dressed again, eyes dazed, curled in on himself, we back downstairs. 

Subjects usually take a few hours to fully recover form the exam, although none of it is truly painful or causes any physical damage. It's a very unsettling feeling, whether the subject turns out to be an omega or not. Of course, for omegas, it's a good introduction to the future of how they'll be treated at whichever government facility will take care of their training, development and eventual placement. 

"How is he?" Justin's mother greets us. 

"He's fine," I assure her, and the father. "He did very well during the exam, everything went smoothly. You'll be contacted about the results within 24 hours."

We left their house after answering a few questions, and got back in the car.

"Alright, where to next, boss?" Tim asked. 

I flipped open the tablet and started scrolling through the files, to see which cases still awaited us for the day.


End file.
